Paper and Fire (The Great Library #2)(16)

“Santi’s not in charge of this—”

“Get Santi!”

The centurion might not have believed him, but he was willing to play along for now. Jess thought there would be plenty of reprimands in his immediate future, but he no longer cared. And that, most of all, must have gotten through to the centurion, who abruptly nodded. “Antivenin is in my pack. Let me get it.”

“Don’t move,” Jess said. “I don’t trust you.”

“Boy, I could have got that knife from you like taking a toy from an infant,” the man said. “I’m getting the pack.”

With the pounding surge of adrenaline starting to recede, Jess figured the soldier probably could have taken him down easily, and he nodded. The soldier reached down, grabbed a field pack, and snugged it on. Then he took up his heavy black weapon—more powerful than Jess’s, and not loaded half-strength, for certain.

“Well?” he said, when Jess stared back. “Go on, then. You’re taking me inside. I need to assess the situation.”

“I’ll need a weapon.”

“Where’s yours?”

“I gave it to the Scholar.”

The soldier gave him a sharp look, then took out his sidearm and handed it over. “Shoot me and I’ll end you,” he said. “I’m Centurion Thabani Botha, in case I die.”

“Brightwell, sir.”

“Good. Now we’re mates. Move.”

Jess was still winded and hurting, but he didn’t protest; he just turned and led Botha back through the gates and watched the rooftops. It was eerily quiet now, no more shots coming their way, though the Greek fire still blazed away in a snapping fury. Looking at it now, Jess was shocked he’d managed to get around it, since it occupied all but a small strip of safety against the farthest wall. He and Botha squeezed past as quickly as possible. Once they were out, Botha said, with quiet grimness, “I wasn’t told there’d be a Burner simulation along with your confiscation assignment.”

“What if it wasn’t a simulation? Could Burners get in here?”

Botha didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t know, or maybe he just didn’t want to say. But Jess doubted that the enemy who’d attacked them was really part of the Burner movement. This came from inside the High Garda itself, he thought. Tariq had turned on them, after all. There would be questions to be asked in the wake of this, hard ones.

Botha put up a fist and Jess came to an instant halt. They were just at the corner, and Botha looked around, then back at Jess. His eyes had gone narrow and cold. “How many out there?”

“I don’t know. Just saw shadows on rooftops. Maybe ten?”

“Armed with Greek fire?”

“And guns,” Jess added, though he knew Botha hadn’t forgotten. He just felt a little defensive. He swallowed and said, “If you see any of my squad, watch them, too. I think some of them may be . . .” He trailed off, because he didn’t want to come right out and say traitors, but the implication hung heavy in the air between them.

Botha shrugged. “I always keep an eye on recruits. They might shoot me in a panic.”

Jess decided then that he liked the man. “Better follow me, then. I trust your aim, at least.” He stepped out into the street. For a second, he felt dizzy, waiting for the inevitable bullet to hit, but nothing did. Silence, except for the hiss of sand stirring in the wind, and the roar of the fire behind. The blaze that had kicked off the whole mess was dying down in the middle of the street ahead, and Jess used that as a guide to look for Tariq. There he was, still lying where he’d fallen. Jess wanted to stop, but Glain, Wolfe, and Helva had to be his first priority. He’d find out the rest later.

Glain stepped out of the shadows of the broken window and pointed her weapon past Jess, at Botha. “Halt,” she snapped, and Jess felt Botha coming to alert. “Drop it!”

“He’s here to help,” Jess said. “He’s got antivenin for Helva, and Santi’s on the way.”

“You bring it in, Jess,” Glain said. “I don’t know that one.”

Botha laughed. It sounded genuinely amused. “Smart,” he said. His pack thumped the ground by Jess’s feet. “Take it in, recruit.”

Glain’s posture stiffened just a little more. “Check the pack,” she told Jess. He crouched down, opened the flaps, and looked in. Standard field equipment, with a full Medica kit inside. He looked back over his shoulder at the centurion.

“You’re Medica?”

“Cross-trained,” Botha said. “I do field medicine. You don’t need me for this, though. Just give her the injection.”

“Do it,” Glain said. “Hurry.”

Jess found the antivenin and eased by Glain, who kept a sharp watch on the centurion. He found Scholar Wolfe beside Helva, taking her pulse. Wolfe held up his hand without even looking up, and Jess handed the shot over and watched as Wolfe slid the needle in. The injector hissed a little as the gas capsule triggered, and the clear liquid contents pushed into Helva’s vein. She was still and quiet, and Jess would have thought his fellow soldier dead if not for the flutter of her pale eyelids. Her color was bad—as bad as it could get, Jess thought, without Anubis appearing to personally drag her to the underworld. “Is it too late?” Jess asked. He didn’t want to care. He’d tried hard not to care about any of them.